


Abraham and the Demon

by Smolkobold



Category: Original Work
Genre: Demons, Folklore, Foxes, Gen, Horror, Priests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:00:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28545225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smolkobold/pseuds/Smolkobold





	Abraham and the Demon

Abraham edged his stool closer to the low, burning glow of the kitchen stove. It was long past the time he usually would go to sleep, but he was in a deep focus, flicking through the pages of his Bible. Tomorrow was Sunday, and it would be harder for him to get out of bed in time for the service. Abraham accepted these things. As an ordained priest, it was his duty to provide sermons to the people of his village. This was not a task Abraham handled lightly. It was by his hand that his church would live or die, and it was by his hand the souls of his people would be saved or cast into hell.

Abraham edged yet closer to the fire, his face inches from the grating of the stove. He pulled his Bible closer to his chest, and read carefully the word of the Lord. Although he did not excel in reading Latin, he swore to himself he would redouble his efforts in learning the language once more. Language in the Bible was rich and needed to be interpreted precisely, not loosely as he sometimes did. Often single sentences carried multiple meanings, allegorical, literal, and metaphorical, and he needed to be able to interpret them all.

Abraham turned the page, reading every line closely and repeating them quietly under his breath. Tonight, he had chosen to reread the book of Jonah. Deeply pondering his village, he wondered if he too would be cast away if he denied the mission that was chosen for him by the Lord. He had never wanted to be sent from the great empire to a small village far away from any city, but he felt justified in his actions as he read what happened to Jonah as he crossed a body of water in search of his own ends. Unlike Jonah, his voyage was peaceful, and his arrival was uneventful, but still new and exciting.

As he flipped the page once more, he realized his face was nearly an inch from the page and he could barely continue to read under the glowing embers of the fire. In fact, his entire home was nearly swallowed by the darkness. He felt around slightly in the dark, reaching for the woodpile, but there was none where he usually kept it. Closing his Bible and placing it on the table, he groped his way through the dark until he could reach his lamp and grabbed onto one of his matches. He struck the match forcefully against the edge of the box, and lit the wick of his lamp, bathing the room in a soft yellow light.

Wanting to keep himself warm come the morning, Abraham momentarily put down his lamp to put on his heavy winter coat and his soft felt hat before picking it up again. Abraham crept over to his front door and turned the handle of the door. Fighting against the wind, he slowly and carefully pulled back until the crack was wide enough for him to slip out through. Once he had reached the other side, he shut the door once more and looked up to the sky.

Abraham hated winter nights, especially those heavy with clouds. It covered the village in a thick, dark blanket, consuming everything around him except for his hand and the lamp. Quietly, he thanked the lamp for its resilience as he watched its frail flame flicker wildly in the wind. Abraham took the first step from his porch and nearly fell flat on his face. He had forgotten that his porch had a large first step leading to the dirt road in front of his house. Catching himself with his left hand, he scraped his palm against the frosty soil, his hat tumbling off into the darkness.

Not about to be bested by a gust of wind, Abraham set out after his hat, chasing it as the wind gusted this way and that, keeping it just out of his reach. In the distance, a cold, horrifying scream sounded from the woods. Abraham froze, crouched in the darkness with his lamp in one hand and his hat in the other. What sort of thing could make such a noise? It sounded like a woman suffering from torment, an agonized scream.

Abraham slowly stood up, suddenly regretting the glowing beacon he held in his hand and started off once more towards the shed at the edge of his property. He stepped carefully, making sure not to slip and fall on the ice once more. Slowly, he worked his way along the dirt road, but it seemed to take an eternity. Each step he took only led to more road and cast the step before into the dark. Abraham felt as if he were walking in place, but the changing surroundings said otherwise. Once more, a deafening shriek came from the woods, much closer this time.

Abraham held his breath and squinted his eyes, searching for the source of the noise. No woman would scream in such a manner, he thought to himself. It must be the work of something else. Abraham reached into his coat pocket and retrieved his cross. He gripped it tightly and immediately a wave of relief came over him. He knew in his heart that he would be protected by the Lord, no matter what it was that faced him.

As he began to move again, he heard a shifting in the bushes and smelled a foul odor. It could only be described as some sort of sulfuric lye, a scent commonly associated with demons.

“Stand back, demon!” Abraham cried out, holding his cross out in front of him and turning to every direction. He took deep breaths, now walking backward towards the woodshed. Something rubbed up against his pant leg and once more he tumbled down onto the ground. This time, the lantern slipped from his fingers and the glass shield shattered. Within a moment, the wick was extinguished and he became a part of the consuming blackness.

Panicking, Abraham sat in the dark, clutching his holy symbol as he groped around in the dark. He felt something warm and soft brush against his hand and he screamed. His voice was met with a piercing wail, the sound nearly deafening him. Abraham began to recite the Lord’s Prayer and closed his eyes. He spoke each word with increasing conviction from his spot on the frozen earth until he regained the confidence to open his eyes once more.

Before him, two curled glowing eyes stared at him like crescent moons. Below them, a long, curved snout with curled lips revealing wicked, sharp teeth. Its body was shaggy and blood red, and it had a long, bushy tail. Its breath smelled of death, and it cried out in front of him. Abraham screamed, kicking the demon with all his might and sprinting back in the direction of home. The scent of the demon stuck to him, haunting his thoughts as he tried desperately to keep his balance.

Within seconds, Abraham had reached his front step. He jumped the step and forced the door open, slamming it shut behind him. Abraham panted, out of breath from the ordeal. On the other side of his door, he could hear the demon laughing at his fear and misfortune. It filled him with a great rage that he had not called the fury of the Lord upon it.

“You may live another day, but if we meet again, I will cast you back to Hell where you have come from.”

Abraham threw off his coat and hat and slowly felt his way back to his bed. Without even getting undressed, he collapsed on the bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.


End file.
